


It‘s Art!

by Besidemyself



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, Artists, F/M, Non specific side characters, Romance, creeper alarm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 10:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14998670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Besidemyself/pseuds/Besidemyself
Summary: Frobin Modern AU / Graffiti-artist AU / No coupleRating: PG / K+Two artists who are similar and still different.(tags will be added)





	1. Chapter 1

There was another one.  
Robin stopped in her track and looked at the graffiti. Like all the others it was remarkable. Full of emotion and passion. She pulled out her phone and shot a photo.  
Her own work always lacked these raw emotions. The people in the community and on message boards still enjoyed her works, describing them as dark, mysterious and sterile. She didn’t really liked that but what she wanted to tell was still understood most of the time and that was fine.  
She continued to look at the art in front of her, savoured it, enjoyed the bright colours and clean lines.  
The picture was an accusation against the world government and with that had an ongoing theme with all the other works of this artist. They all told a story about anger and self hatred but also the will to free themselves from this. Rather similar to hers. The difference was that she used glyphs and pictures from the past, showing moments of injustice, similar to those happening today, ordered by the world government, carried out by the marines. She also always only used black, no colours. She had tried it but it hasn’t felt right.  
Finally she pulled out a marker, glanced left and right and drew a little heart in the corner, right under the graffiti. She wanted to show respect to a person with so much power in their art.  
After standing up she stayed just a few more moments, then she carried on.  
She had a day job after all. She was lucky that she could work as an history professor for a well known school. Still on the run but hidden in plain sight. At least for now.  
Today her students would have to analyze this newest graffiti. She couldn’t help but smile a little bit.  
\---  
There was another one!  
It hasn’t been there half an hour ago! There, the black little heart, perfectly drawn, accurate and simple. Still one of the best compliments that he had gotten on any of his works. Those little black hearts had appeared quite a lot lately.  
He wanted to know who drew them. Somehow he guessed they were from the same person who made those black and white graffitis that always showed people suffering with the sentence “history repeats itself” written beside it.  
He wanted to meet this person.  
The stories they told were similar to his but still different. He wanted to look this person in the eyes and ask them why they are so sad? He wanted to talk to them but he knew it was highly unlikely. Political graffiti artists like them were always in danger. Especially this one because they used old glyphen in their work which were forbidden.  
He stared some longer at this black little heart and then made a photo. Time to continue to his day job.  
He was lucky that he could work at his brother's place who didn’t really bothered him about slacking from time to time.  
For the next few hours working on mechanics would clear his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the continuation of a oneshot I first posted in my collection „Will they or won‘t they?“ on 24 th March 2017  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/9422423/chapters/23029437
> 
> I copy-pasted the first chapter, the second will be added soon. This will probably become no more than a total of four chapters but who knows?


	2. Chapter 2

Even though only a history Professor Robin was quite often invited to soirées and art exhibits. Often enough together with her Dean who used those events to network and find supporters and some extra money.

It had started with her students. A couple of them were studying art and they often asked Robin for her opinion on their pieces.  
She was honest but supportive and her vast knowledge of art history and appreciation of all kind of styles gave her an aura of competence. So much that it spread from her students into the higher art community.

She slowly had become an insider tip. The established artists hoped that she would compliment or even praise the pieces, causing an increase in sells. But at the same time, her sometimes brutal opinions were becoming a joke at cocktail parties. It was actually frustrating if people brushed her off because “professional” artists rarely took her serious.

After all she was no artist herself, so all her knowledge about creating art was from books, right? Not that it mattered. Many experts never had touched the basics of their expertise.  
Robin had never met a person from the old communities, living in this very land, 2000 years ago but everyone trusted her when she told them that they used arrows with flintstones as head.

Also there was the fact that she herself was an anonymous graffiti artist. And that was for the better but sometimes she still wanted to rub it in their faces.

She smiled politely at the man who currently told her what had inspired him to create this particular piece. She didn‘t like it. It was full of anger and hatred towards everyone and everything but especially women. It screamed ‚let them suffer‘.  
And she didn‘t like the artist who stood too near, trying to sneak an arm around her and to touch her.

That moment a young woman, carrying a tray, passed. Giving Robin an opportunity to flee.

„Pardon, miss!“ once more she smiled politely at the scumbag, who looked less than thrilled as she excused herself.

„Yes, miss? May I bring you something?“  
As soon as she had left the mans space, Robin felt like she could experience her surroundings once more. The garage, where the exhibit happened, was busy with patrons and artists, both using this opportunity to network and enjoy themselves.  
Additionally it was a mix of established artists and students, a way to shine some light on the new talents with bringing the old masters in and thus their fans. A nice concept.  
Her eyes skimmed over the people, stopping short at one of her favorite pupils who was enjoying the praise, continuing to the host who looked bored and then throwing a quick glance back at scumbag who still eyed her even though an old couple talked to him about his work.

She needed to get away for some time.  
„Where are the restrooms?“  
„Ah, yes. Down the hallway and then to the left.“  
„Thank you a lot.“

With a brisk step she vanished through the the opening into the hallway. There were a couple of doors and Robin took her time to look into each room behind them, always having been a bit too curious. She never stepped in the dark rooms though, until she saw something that peaked her interest.  
In the main office, behind the desk, was a painting drawn directly on the wall and even though this one did not show the same emotions as the graffitis she would find outside, this was clearly made by THEM. The style too unique. Of course every style could be copied… but…

Her eyes traveled along the lines of the painting. Even in the dark she could distinguish the bright colours. The mood of this piece was happier, more hopeful and full of curiosity. A wish to travel and for freedom. Finally she saw some differences. The lining wasn‘t as clear sometimes even uncertain. Maybe an earlier work? From a happier time?  
She searched for a hint and knelt down because maybe this one would have a signature or a… a date. This was almost 15 years old. No signature.  
It made her smile sadly, as her fingers brushed over the paint. This meant that they had experienced something that had changed them dramatically. Made them hate themself.  
She sighed and slowly stood up. Once more she desperately wanted to know who the person behind these drawings was. She could ask the owner but then she would need to answer why she was in the office and not at the party.

A loud crashing noise, accompanied by shouting caused her to bolt.  
With blood rushing through her veins she hurried to the door and peeked outside to see the scumbag who had occupied her earlier, being held up by a tall man with blue hair.  
Carefully she opened the door just a bit to listen in.  
„I DON‘T CARE WHO YOU ARE! I won‘t allow any creeper to hang around the women’s toilet!“  
„I‘m waiting for my…“  
„I don‘t give a fuck! She is old enough to find her way back to you, is she not?!“  
„Wha...yes!“  
„Good! Now move or I‘ll make you!“

Robins heart pounded in her chest as she saw the scumbag artist almost run back to the exhibition.  
That asshole had waited for her outside the restroom to do whatever. She didn‘t want to dive into that, remembering the feelings the paintings had inflicted in her. Tension left her body, having avoided this by sheer luck, causing her to push the door just a bit more open.

„Hey! Is someone in the office? Get out!“  
Immediately the tension came back but she squared her shoulders and stepped out, ready to talk her way out of any consequence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on the third chapter that will be form Frankys perspective. I think I'll switch. The chapters will be short, which might make increase the number of chapters but I hope you'll understand.  
> Also I changed the rating from G to T. 
> 
> Sorry for all mistakes. It is a bit of a rushed job but I want to get it out before it's forgotten again :)
> 
> Also if something is unclear, please tell me and I'll correct it. Thank you very much!


	3. Chapter 3

Franky stepped closer towards the office. It was always the same. Iceburg would throw some stupid party and because he was such a boring host people would wander off and sniff around the office and rummage through the storage room and the repair shop and then everything would be out of place in the morning.  
Additional now creeper would creep around the women’s toilet. But not on his watch!  
Even though his watch was actually late night working on a motorcycle.  
„Out! Or I‘m coming in!“ he prepared himself for another angry display of strength but instead of some weirdo a beautiful woman in a black cocktail dress walked out.  
Well, couples sneaking away for some alone time wasn‘t new either but she didn‘t look disheveled or flushed or anything. Instead she looks almost ready to fight.  
Thrown off and now a bit uncertain he glances past her into the room but everything seemed normal.  
„Were you in there alone?“  
„Yes. I‘m sorry. It wasn‘t my intention to intrude.“  
„Uh…,“ he had no idea how to react. Throwing assholes out was one thing. Scolding a grown up woman was something completely different.  
„… then return to the party, I guess?“

He can see her tense a bit, furrowing her eyebrows just so lightly. It‘s not much but enough to alert him. He knows the signs.  
„Are you okay?“ Frankys first reaction is always to touch, to reassure but his hands are stained with grease and oil and he does not want to ruin this beautiful dress and to cause even more distress.  
The woman is clearly surprised by his words and needs a moment before she finally answers.  
„Sorry, Sir. But the man you sent away was probably waiting for me.“  
It takes another moment until the words process.  
„Is he your husband? Boyfriend?“  
He does not even know either of them but the whole scenario screams at him for his attention. At the same time a small voice in his mind tells him to not get involved. A voice he ignores all the time.  
„No. I met him a few hours ago and since then he has been harassing me.“  
„What an asshole,“ Franky only mumbles it but it‘s from way down below and full of disgust.

“Indeed,” the woman looks back towards the place where a lot of people enjoy themself and she seems to consider what to do. Franky does the same while keeping an eye on her. She does not seem that distressed but certainly shaken about what happened. Finally she gazes up at him again. She is not of small stature, certainly not but he is aware of his own height.

“Can I be of help in any other way than shooing away creeper?”  
Again she seems surprised and to consider again her possibilities.  
“Well, maybe providing shelter for a refugee?” Her smile is really nice. “I’d rather not meet that man again but the person I came with is probably still in the depth of sweet-talking important people.”  
Now it is himself who is surprised. It seems like an odd request but at the same time he is not one to refuse a damsel in distress.  
“Sure. I’ll lead the way.”  
The moment he turns around he feels a hand on his arm and peeks back to see the woman smirk up at him.  
“If you could wait a couple of minutes I’d use the restroom first, if that is okay?”  
He laughs out loud before he bows lightly.  
“Of course. And don’t worry. I won’t allow anyone else to creep around, beside myself.”

While Franky waited no one wanted to use the toilet, so it wasn’t necessary to send people away. He actually wanted to have a look at the pieces that were exhibited but at the same time he had no intention to mingle with any of these people.  
It also annoyed him that his brother would even host these events that only appealed to some rich assholes.  
Real art was not this. Real art was out there in the streets and in so many notebooks.

His brother had argued that it was a way for young students to become better known but did the end really justify the means? He really did not know but that it left a sour taste in his mind. Maybe the woman could enlighten him a bit. Hopefully she was not just some token wife of a rich collector. She certainly was beautiful enough for that.

The moment she finally came out of the bathroom he smiled because yep, she certainly was.  
He lead the way to the smaller workshop at the end of the hallway to give her refugee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh... haha. I used my username in the chapter. Funny. 
> 
> anyway, the next chapter will switch perspective because now hey are together and we all want to know what they think of each other, yes? 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this.


End file.
